Ghost Gospel
by Supernatural Faith
Summary: Dean had returned from Hell, his relationship with Sammy is falling apart and Castiel is growing closer than ever. In this multi-chapter Dean has to support Sammy in his darkest times, without letting him fall to the depths of Hell with Ruby. "If you don't stop him. We will." - Castiel
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: **I would give you all an idea of the plot, but I'm worried it would ruin the surprise! So this is my first multi-chapter works, which I hope is worth it. This idea has been toying in my head for some time and I seriously hope the continuity works. It is set during Season 4, were Sam knows what happened to Dean in Hell, Dean knows about Ruby and Castiel and Dean are growing closer. Sam is also beginning to begum addicted to Demon blood by this point.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the character =( They all belong to their rightful owners, as do the song lyrics!

* * *

"_Masquerading as a man with a reason,_

_My charade is the event of the season._

_And if I claim to be a wise man, well,_

_It surely means that I don't know."_

* * *

Sam lay flat out on the motels bed with his arms tucked under his head, his elbows sticking out. Dean had disappeared to the liquor store and Sam was worried about him. After 'Hell' Dean had not been the same, and know Sam understood he was terrified for him.

Dean entered through the door as he thrust it open rather violently, clutching a liquor bottle at hand and a newspaper in the other. He wasn't drunk – that Sam knew, but he was angry.

"What's up?" Sam asked half-heartedly.

"Board."

"Are you looking for a job?"

"Yep." Dean had answered lightening his tone.

"Dean you haven't slept in days, we don't need another job." Sam was trying to be sensitive, but he couldn't think of a better way to get through to this brother.

Dean was silenced and sat down on his bed flicking through the newspaper looking for signs of the extra-ordinary.

Dean had ignored Sam and kept flicking through the paper, until he spotted something. He smiled, as it seemed like the perfect job. He turned to Sammy, pointing down at the page, "Look at this." He flicked the paper over and handed it to Sam.

Sam looked down at the page and began to read, whilst Dean paced the room with his hand on his chin, "Lucy Wallis was attacked by her 'so-called' husband this last weekend." He turned to Dean looking oddly confused, "An attack is not supernatural, Dean."

"Read On."

Sam read on and as he noticed the next few lines he paused, "Lucy Wallis's husband died three years ago and as Lucy resides in a mental-hospital we area attempting to discover the true attacker." The following text was just the classic 'if you have any information please contact us' speech.

Sam paused and looked at Dean, "Ghost?"

Dean nodded, "Only question is, why did he not kill his wife?"

Sam just shrugged and looked at Dean expectantly.

"What?" Dean snapped.

"This is the moment were you announce we're leaving."

"Yeah. That..." Dean was stuttering his words, as if he was focused on something more important than this job.

"Come on, Dean." Sam gestured, as he rose from the bed, shifting across the room, urging Dean to follow.

* * *

The impala was parked in the motel car park and as they locked the motels door Sam looked at Dean attempting to read his thoughts, failing in this attempt. Dean opened his side of the impala as he settled down behind the wheel. Sam followed suit in the passenger side, before shifting his weight too look at Dean directly on, "Come on man, what's up?"

"I'm fine, Sammy. Come on."

Dean promptly turned the car engine on, and as the familiar noise of the impala wound up, he turned up his crappy music as Sam shuffled back further into the seat, still not believing Dean's confidant attitude.

They drove in silence for a while, until Sam picked up the paper from earlier that day and began to re-read the article. Dean looked over his shoulder and down at the paper, "Does it say which mental home she's in?"

"Urm… Westbrook Rigshaw Care Home for the Mentally Challenged."

Dean snorted in amusement, "Sounds like a great place to live!"

Sam growled, "Shut up, Dean."

"What? Why?"

Sam just shook his head in disappointment.

Dean paused, a little hurt, before continuing the conversation, "Does it say what actually happened."

"Only that she was beaten up by her so called husband. I mean she was clearly beaten up, she had bruises and cuts, she was bleeding a lot." He paused, "But what I don't get is why this is supernatural?"

Dean frowned, "Her husband is dead Sam."

"Yes, but it could just be anyone who is pretending to be a husband, or she is just mentally ill – she could have beaten herself up."

Dean fumbled in his side door angrily, before pulling out a scrap of newspaper and thrust it towards Sam, "Does this look like she beat herself up?"

Sam held the piece of paper up into the light, the newspaper clipping was a photograph of a young lady with shinning blue eyes and ivory black hair, but the main feature of this photo was the amount of blood splattered across her eyes, mouth and cheek bones. Sam paused, "Should could have done though, Dean. It wasn't necessarily a ghost."

"What's not ghost-y about this? Sam!"

"Come on, Dean. How many times to people fight in this world. She may have actually just have had very little respect for herself, she may just have not cared."

Dean scowled, understanding were this conversation was going, he turned to Sam and snapped, "Sam. I thought we were over this!"

"I still don't understand why you did it, Dean." Sam paused, "You just didn't care."

Dean snarled and swung the car into lay bye. He slammed the breaks on and breathed before turning to Sammy his eyes glaring, "You think I enjoyed my time in Hell, Sam? You think I wanted this to happen, to leave you?" He had raised his voice now.

Sam was silenced, "No… but you –"

"Exactly! Just because I didn't complain, doesn't mean I freaking asked for it." Dean yelled.

"You didn't exactly make it very easy for anyone, Dean." Sam had now also begun shouting to match Dean's ecstatic voice.

"What you think I could have popped a message up from Hell, **Hey guys. I'm freaking being tortured down here, but I'll come visit you some time to say hi.**"

"No. But you could have freaking cared." Sam shouted.

"Cared about what, Sam?! I was dead. In Hell, what could I have cared about?"

Sam looked down at his hands, "Me. Bobby. Dad."

Dean bit his lip and turned his head to the window, before putting his foot on the accelerator, slipping the impala into gear, ignoring Sam's last comment, before there wasn't much time before Sam was shouting again.

"You don't care, Dean. You didn't give a second thought to any of us whilst you were under. Did you even think once about how we were doing up here? I needed you, but I couldn't have you, but Ruby helped."

Dean's eyes were filled with tears and he blinked them away, staring at the road before speaking very slowly, "Sam, don't you think about anyone but yourself. I was freaking being tortured in Hell and the one thing. The one thing that kept me going was you guys. Knowing that you were living up above. I damn care Sam, so don't you dare, ever dare, say that I don't care. Because I do. I care so freaking much." He paused as another tear fell, "But in Hell I just couldn't bare to care."

Sam was silenced and just stared at Dean whilst Dean's eyes remained fixated on the road, he gulped back wondering if he should talk or not. Dean turned his face from the road and locked eyes with Sammy, "Sammy. I bloody care. It was just too hard."

Sam nodded and bit back a tear, "I understand, Dean."

"No. Sam. You don't. But that doesn't matter, no one will." Dean turned back to the road, before speaking again, "Can we get back to the job?"

Sam nodded and glanced back down at the clipping, "So do you want to go get a word with her, see what really happened?"

Dean nodded, "I'm just trying to work out why a ghost didn't kill her?"

Sam looked a Dean still a little weary, but spoke anyway, "I know. It's a bit weird, but what if the ghost sought revenge for a beating, rather than death? Would that trigger a beating instead of a full-blown killing?"

Dean retorted, "I suppose so. I just don't see why a ghost would need to get revenge for a beating. It doesn't seem quite right."

"I know what you mean. It doesn't seem like normal ghost activity. Could it be a shapeshifter?"

Dean nodded, "I suppose so. They don't exactly have super-human powers on staying-alive, so maybe she got away. But how would he have got the body of a dead man?"

"Maybe he's not dead."

Dean shivered, "Come on man. No!" He groaned, "That's the making of a messed up relationship. I don't want to delve into something like that!"

"Have you ever had a relationship for more than a month, Dean?"

"Urm… No." Dean smiled, "But that's the way I like it."

"You saddo."

"Oi!" Dean shoved Sam's arm, "Who you calling a saddo? Bitch."

"Jerk." Sam retorted.

* * *

The white lights of Ohio came nearer as Sam and Dean drove a hair-raising speed along the bumpy country road. Many ideas flicked through the brothers heads as they attempted to figure out what might have happened to this women, and would it happen to anyone else. Sam turned to watch Dean, driving the car, cautious about the argument they had, had. Wondering if Hell was still startling him, after all he was always very jumpy, although he knew what had happened to Dean in Hell, was their something he wasn't saying? Sam's head was full of so many questions, but in a way he had so many secrets that Dean needed answers too, and one of them was **Ruby**.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ghost Gospel**

**Chapter 2**

**Authors Note: **If you are reading this I hope you enjoyed Chapter One! Please enjoy reading Chapter Two and let me know what you think in your reviews or private message me! Thanks guys! =)

**Disclaimer: **I still sadly don't own either the song lyrics or the characters. D=

"_On a stormy sea of moving emotion,_

_Tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean._

_I set a course for winds of fortune,_

_But I hear the voices say."_

Dean was the first to clamber out of the car in hot, sticky Ohio. Sam followed suit, slamming his door behind him. Dean turned to look at Sam over the roof of the impala, resting his elbows on it gently.

"Right then? Lets find out who this ghost is."

Sam butted in rather abruptly, "If it is a ghost."

Dean just shook his head and moved on towards the brightly lit hospital.

The change in temperature between the outside world and the hospital entrance was dramatic. Neither brothers could help but shiver. They approached the front desk and Dean cast an eye toward Sam. Sam just nodded. Dean flipped the FBI badge's out and spoke in a clear, deep voice.

"Agent Angus, FBI, and this is my college Agent Young, also FBI. We are here to see Lucy Wallis. Asking questions about the attack."

The women behind the counter looked at the badges for a minute, before nodding and gesturing in the direction of the corridor. Rising from her seat.

"I warn you." The nurse stated, "She is in a feeble way."

"That is alright." Dean continued, "We just need to ask her a few questions."

The nurse paused, "I'm not going to lie, I thought you guys had sorted out her case last week – stated she was mentally challenged and must have been hallucinating?"

Sam coughed, "New information was found. We are just looking into it."

The secretary nodded and led them down the white corridors.

Dean glanced thankfully at Sam as the followed in suit.

The nurse stopped and a door with just a small window inside, she gestured toward it with her arm.

"This is it. Her doctor is just over there –" She said pointing in the direction of a slim, ginger haired lady flicking through some files, "- speak to her if you have any problems getting through to Lucy. I warn you though, she is still shaken up."

Dean slipped the door open and, followed by Sam, they moved into the frosty room. Only to see Lucy sitting turned away from them facing the stained window. She was silent, but before as Dean began to talk her face flushed with colour and she turned to face them, anger searing through her eyes.

Dean had asked, "Lucy. We have come to ask you a few questions."

"You're wasting your time. No one believes me." She turned her face away again.

This time Sam chipped in, "We're not anyone. We actually want to know what happened."

"Yeah right." She snarled, "You just want to make a better story for you reports and blah blah."

Dean attempted to talk, "We're not reporters. We're FBI. I am Agent Angus, and this is Agent –"

Lucy cut Dean up rather abruptly, "FBI. Blah, Blah. Posh little shits."

Sam put his arm across Dean's chest, to prevent him from doing anything stupid, "Look, Lucy. We just want to find some stuff out. We just need to know what happened, we'll be out of your hair after we've asked some questions."

Lucy paused, as if considering the offer, before turning back around and looking at the two brothers. She pointed to the chairs in the corner of the room, "Fine. Five minuets."

Sam dipped his head gratefully and took a seat, urging Dean to do the same.

"All we want to know –" Sam asked, "Is what happened?"

Lucy groaned, "I've told everyone. It was this. I went home, my husband was waiting. He got a baton and beat me to a pulp."

Dean looked at Lucy with his confused expression, "But your husbands dead."

Lucy growled, "You don't think I don't know that."

Sam hushed Dean, before looking back at Lucy, "Would you be able to tell us how your husband died?"

"How is that relevant?"

"It just is."

"Alright." She paused, "Ernie died in a car accident three years ago. Another drunk driver hit his car and he died."

Dean scowled confused. Sam continued, "You didn't happen to feel any coldspots when you entered your house."

Lucy slunk backwards, "No. Not that I know off. Why is that necessary?"

"Just curious." Sam continued, "Lucy, are you sure he died in a car accident?"

Lucy sniffed angrily, "Yes, I'm flaming sure! I saw his mingled body –" She paused taking a breath, obviously feeling emotional, "- on the bleeding pavement."

Briefly Lucy turned her head away avoided all eye contact with the two brothers.

Dean perked in, "You didn't smell any sulphur or see something unnatural did you?"

Lucy snorted, "My dead husband in my house was slightly unnatural."

Dean cocked his head in a respectful gesture as if to say 'good point'.

Sam turned back to Lucy, "Lucy do you think you husband had any reason to want revenge on you?"

Lucy's eyes turned from anger to fear, she leapt up and pointed towards the door, "Get out! NOW!"

Sam and Dean jumped to their feet, "Lucy –"

"I don't know who you think you are, but I want you out. NOW!" Lucy was yelling now.

Sam and Dean held their hands up in submission as Dean spoke, "Alright, we are leaving." They shuffled towards the door, but as they left Dean's eyes caught the windowsill and he noticed something strange. Salt. He stopped dead his eyes fixated on the window, before turning back to Lucy, "Salt?"

"A Keeps ghost out doesn't it." She huffed.

Sam looked curious, "How do you know that?"

"Please." Lucy stated sarcastically, "Everyone knows that."

Dean pulled back a rug on the floor curiously and sure enough a Demon Trap was drawn over the floor. He paused, "But not everyone knows about these."

Sam asked curiously, "Are you a hunter?"

Lucy answered too fast, "No."

Dean looked carefully at Lucy, "You can trust us you know. We are hunters too. I am Dean and this is Sam, Winchester. We're not FBI."

Lucy took a step back, "Winchesters?"  
"Yes." They replied together.

"GET OUT NOW." Lucy yelled in fear.

Dean looked taken aback, "Whatever is wrong, we can help, Lucy."

"No you can't. GET OUT NOW." She was in tears now, nervously shoving them out of the door.

Sam looked at Dean and hauled him towards and out of the door giving in to Lucy, "There is no way, Dean."

Dean nodded and the exited the room slightly nervously.

Once they had left the room, Sam looked up and down the corridor and noticed the ginger haired women from earlier, Lucy's doctor, reading through some files, so he urged Dean to follow him.

"Hi?"

The Doctor kept reading the files in front of her, but answered, "Hey, what can I do for you?"

"I'm Agent Young, FBI and this is my college Agent Angus." Sam noted to the Doctor.

She raised her head from the files and looked at the two men slowly, her ginger hair fell to below her middle back and it was tied back neatly in a pony tail. She had a few freckles on her nose, and her eyes were a deep, chocolate brown. "Hi, I'm Lorraine, How can I help you?"  
Sam continued, "We are looking into, Lucy Wallis's case, about her attacker. You don't happen to have any information on it do you?"

Lorraine smiled, "I have bits and pieces, but I thought you'd cleared this up?" She paused and huffed.

Dean looked curious, "You don't agree?"

"No. I don't." Lorraine was trying to keep her cool, "This women isn't like my usual patient, I think she's perfectly sain."

Sam looked and Dean, "This is what we wanted to talk to you about."

Lorraine gestured in the direction of a room, "My office. Less people around."

As Sam and Dean sat down in chairs in the office, Lorraine let her hair out of her ponytail and put her hands on the desk as if to intimidate the boys, "FBI? Seriously guys, you have got to do better."

Sam and Dean shared the same look of confusion and nerves.

Lorraine held out her hand, "Lorraine Creaser. Daughter of Martin Creaser."

Dean and Sam just stared, but Sam gulped back surprise, "Martin had a daughter?"

Lorraine smiled, "Your looking at her."

"But you're a Doctor?" Dean asked.

"Good observation. I am a Doctor, but also a Hunter."

Sam smiled in respect, "So you believe that this Wallis problem could be a ghost."

Lorraine shook her head, "Not a ghost, but a witness."

"What?" Dean asked.

Lorraine bit her tongue, "Please tell me you know about the witnesses."

Sam nodded, "If you mean the raising of the witnesses, we stopped it – so it can't be."

Lorraine shook her and moved to her bookshelves, before pulling a large, old book off and slamming it on the desk. "There is some old law about the witnesses." She flicked through the pages; "Oh and thank you for stopping them when you did, one had a knife to my throat."

"No problem…" Dean said quietly.

"Here." Lorraine pointed a finger to a passage on the pain, whilst she gave it to Sam she spoke it out of memory, "When the witnesses rise, few serve a higher purpose. They are respectful and go out to do only what they feel right to avenge what happened to them in their lives. Even after the rise is crushed these witnesses may go on living for millennium until they have served their purpose for death."

Dean shivered, "Great. How do we stop them?"

Lorraine looked nervously, "Here's the problem, no one knows. There may not even be a way, they are invincible until they have fulfilled their task and then they return to the dead."

"**Fantastic."** Dean scowled.


End file.
